Fragments Undefined
by Vhii1217
Summary: Snippets of bittersweet stories they shared. In which Draco kept a black, emerald-eyed kitten and Harry thought the Slytherin boy should learn a bit about Muggles' technology. "Draco, BlackBerry is a cell phone. Not a kind of rectangular fruit."


Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all properties involved are the right of J.K. Rowling. I own and gain nothing.

A/N: This is my first Harry Potter story, and thus is my first HarryDraco fiction. This was created by request of my fellow writer and schoolmate **thewriterwannabe**, who gave me the challenge prompt: _assassin, purge, kitten, dots, _and _handphone. _Utmost apology if I ended up messing with the characters –bows-

For thewriterwannabe, sorry I took forever to complete this, as I had almost no idea as to what to write for HarryDraco. I've never been involved in the fandom, you see. This is to celebrate the end of our exams. Yay for us!

Warning: slash, possible OOC-ness, unbetaed (writer is not an English speaker)

---oOo---

_Fragments Undefined_

---oOo---

**#01 Assassin**

_Assassinate… assassinate… assassinate!_

"NO!!!" Draco Malfoy screamed, bolting upright from his sleep. Wide eyes shone wildly in the dark, like a caged beast rebelled for life. Pale face was marred by beads of cold perspiration.

"I'm not an assassin… I'm not… but I have… to… be…" he mumbled under his breath, still panting. Sweat mixing with tracks of tears unknowingly shed, he tried to calm himself and lied down on his bed. He waited for minutes, but his eyes refused to slide shut.

---HDHDHD---

Everyday was a hell after Dark Lord announced his plan.Draco knew the road that was laid ahead of him was a road with no turning back. He might brag that he weren't scared, he might say that he was proud instead, but deep down he was just a mere seventeen year old boy who still had a part of his heart pure and unstained. He hadn't seen all wicked things the world presented. Inside he still conserved a small naïve and childish soul. This plan of assassination might steal that precious part away from him.

_Assassinate him… assassinate Dumbledore…_

Could he do it?

"_I'm very proud _he _entrusts this matter to me!"_

Did he say the truth?

He saw his mother crying, her eyes sunken and frightful. Grim tears glistened as she stared at her one and only son. He was everything she had now. Losing him would mean the death of her and, calculating the probability, it was most likely what would happen.

He walked listlessly down a flight of stairs at one wing of Hogwarts. Thoughts of what might happen assaulted him in shotgun speed.

"Watch out!"

His heart jumped up to his throat as one of the steps flipped and threw his body conveniently. His mind drew to a blank as he flew down the staircase. He waited for the bump, but the impact never came.

"Did you happen to forget skipping that particular step?" A familiar voice rang in his ear, teasing and concerning at the same time. The pale Slytherin boy closed his eyes; feeling, for the first time in a very long period, safe in the embrace of those arms.

"I'm an… assassin… I deserve… death…"

"What were you saying?" He could imagine a frown on the scarred forehead. Something predictable, something familiar. He felt warm and comfortable.

"Nothing," he reluctantly freed himself from the catching arms and dusted himself.

The crystalline green eyes watched him, asking him, suspicious but not accusing, and he was eternally grateful for that. "I don't like saying this, but… thanks, Potty," with that, he brushed past the bespectacled boy, not waiting for a reply.

Adverse fate might happen to him as he went on the winding way he had chosen. But for now, he would give anything to keep this plan from stealing away the little sanctuary he had built within those arms.

**#02 Purge**

Potion was Draco Malfoy's favorite subjects. It was one field he won completely, utterly, wholly, and absolutely over Harry Potter. For that, Draco was joyous.

But it didn't mean he never had a bad day with Potion.

Like that one time, when they were to make a Spirit Lifter Potion. Snape happened to have this crazy idea to make them switch the potion they created with another student. It was just his luck that he had to switch with Goyle.

Actually, the blonde Slytherin suspected that his own potion was half a failure. It was proved literally when Goyle downed the whitish concoction. The lower half of his body reacted by jumping up and down energetically while the upper half slumped like a kicked puppy. And Draco had the heart to laugh at him.

It was not a wise move, though. When Goyle had calmed down enough to hand the smaller boy his creation, Draco knew he was doomed. _Everyone _was better than Goyle in _every _subject, even Harry Potter, and that was saying a lot.

Eyeing the supposedly-transparent-but-instead-greenish liquid in distaste, Draco bravely gulped it and waited for his fate.

One second… two second…

He tilted his head in a well-hidden surprise. _So Goyle is in fact better than Potter in Potion…_

Just then, his heart ached very badly. Literally. He clutched the cloak covering his left chest, doubling over in pain. Snape was quick to approach him.

"Goyle," Snape snapped (no pun intended, really). "What did you put into the potion?"

"Uhm… pearl powder? Ginger root?" the poor guy answered meekly, shrinking under Snape's hard glare.

"Those were the ingredients of Love Potion andLive Like Dead Potion," Snape said tonelessly, though there was something akin to pityveiled in his voice. He turned to face Draco. "Whoever you were thinking about that caused you this pain is the only one who can purge it from your body."

That was why Draco—all red-faced and irritated with himself—blocked the Gryffindor kids after lunch and pulled Harry away from the curious group. He dragged the confused bespectacled boy to a secluded corner of the castle.

"What the heck, Malfoy?!"

"Listen, Potter, and keep your laughter to yourself," Draco glared for additional effect, though it came out not as threatening as it was meant to be, what with those big blushes on his pale cheeks.

Raising an eyebrow as Draco went on with the story, Harry couldn't help but grinning widely.

"—and because this is the damned Love Potion we are talking about, Snape said that in order to purge it—"

"Okay, I see," Harry cut short with ease and latched his lips on the other boy's. He felt Draco stiffened, weird-tasted liquid transferring into Harry's oral cavity.

"Bah!" Harry spat the concoction out and frowned. "It tastes horrible," but then he grinned again. "But you taste good enough."

**#03 Kitten**

Crookshanks was one of few cats Harry Potter had ever been in contact with (aside of the cat version of McGonagall; that was) and he dared to say he wasn't exactly fond of the creature. Come to think of it, he never found himself adoring cats that much. He preferred dogs and owls.

It was perfectly reasonable to assume that Draco Malfoy, too, would not be the kind of person who appreciated cats.

When the new school year started and they were attending selection ceremony, Harry had to raise an eyebrow in amusement as Draco appeared with a black-furred kitten clinging on the front of his cloak, its green eyes shining with glints of endearment and sprinkles of mischief. The blonde Slytherin looked more or less indifferent about it—not annoyed at all—and that was certainly something.

"I don't know you have a penchant for cute things, Malfoy," Ron commented (snickered?) when they happened to cross way at the Great Hall, the kitten still dutifully clinging on the Slytherin boy's cloak.

Draco glanced at Harry's way for a millisecond before replying, smirking slyly, "Maybe I do."

Later in the same year when they got some private time alone, Harry asked, "What in the world drove you to keep that kitten?"

Draco glanced at the black furry kitten—who didn't qualify as a kitten anymore, really—lazing on his shoulder and replied, "I happened to break a wing and a leg of that ugly old owl I owned. Since then Mum didn't entrust me creatures with wings and frail legs. Beside," Draco had to smile at this point, patting the purring kitten gently. "He has bright green eyes and good, thick black fur. Nice to stroke, isn't it?"

"I suppose," Harry answered with a grin, unconsciously blinking his emerald eyes and fondling his own thick black hair.

**#04 Dots**

Not many people knew that Harry Potter loved stargazing.

When night grew old and sky was clear, he often sneaked away from the boys' room in Gryffindor tower to sit on the edge of window in common room. He loved counting the countless sparkling dots winking merrily down at him from their place on the endless span of midnight blue. The crisp cold night breeze was warmed by their tireless twinkles, fading and unfading ever so rhythmically.

There were two bright dots sitting side by side, blinking in tune as if encouraging him to dance to their music. He imagined his parents there, watching him through his father's mischievous eyes and his mother's affectionate emerald gaze. There were two more dots on the right side of the couple, their light bright enough to reach each other, as if they were the bests of friends conveniently flinging an arm around each other. He imagined Sirius and Lupin there, looking at their best buddy's son with glints of pride in their eyes.

On the other side of the sky there were a group of happily sparkling dots. They were laughing lively to him, extending their hands for him to take, assuring that he would never be alone. He could almost imagine red hair sprouting from each of the dots. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were smiling at him as though they had been doing a son. There was his best friend, Ron, shining brightly amidst the lots of his siblings. Near the group was a dot flashing stern, strong light. Harry smiled. Hermione.

One of the biggest dots was sitting by the moon, emanating wise and brilliant gleam. His headmaster was looking at him from behind his half-moon glasses, eyes soft yet penetrating. There was a steady dot at his right side, and Harry could imagine McGonagall nodding sternly at him. Flitwick was a merrily flickering dot, while Sprout spreading austere luster around. Hagrid was glimmering with every adoration and pride one could find in a big, friendly face.

And then there were his Quidditch teammates, the energetically flashing dots who waved and invited him to join them and begin the game. A golden dot winked at him—the Snitch—luring him to seek it, to catch it, to secure it in his palms. His rivals from other dorms flickered challengingly. The night wind passed by, reminding him of the high of the game, the rushing adrenaline in his every arteries. He could almost imagine Firebolt stopped by the window, asking him to ride on and fly high to the sky.

There was one more dot far away from the others. It didn't twinkle quite as jovially; instead it was shimmering pale and still ray, playful in its own distinctive, enigmatic way. It spoke volumes in deaf silence, showing affection carefully masked behind slitting abhorrence and brisk rivalry. It moved from acquaintance to rival to friend to foe to lover to stranger in the least; giving an impression of a careless tap-dance performed by a haughty perfect stage artiste. It was not the biggest dot, nor the brightest one, but it was special and captivating not because of the superiority but rather because of its anomaly, and the anomaly alone claimed over sanity in the name of paradox.

So much as to explain that dot of paradox, who was now smirking in its alluring yet provoking way, by the name of Draco Malfoy.

**#05 Handphone**

Draco Malfoy might say that he was a Pure Blood and bragged endlessly about it. But, Harry thought, he could at least try to learn a little bit about Muggles' technology. That was rational, since they lived in London, a metropolitan city with modern Muggles stuffed in it.

Wizards were cool, Harry admitted, they were capable of doing many things Muggles could only dream about. But in his opinion, Muggles were great too, since they could invent what they needed without a touch of magic. And among the wonderful inventions they had created, cell phone was definitely one of the greatest.

As years and summer breaks went by, letters and owls had become less and less sufficient. Hedwig was more or less imprisoned in her cage since Aunt Petunia was being more of a clean freak these days. The Dursleys practically prohibited him from being in a meter radius close to the telephone. All in all, the connection between him and his friends were cut off. And damn, he _was _bored.

Hermione was the one thoughtful enough to send him a cell phone for his birthday present. He was grateful and delighted to know that Hermione and Ron (actually, Mr. Weasley) also had cell phones with them, meaning they could communicate whenever and wherever.

But he wanted to contact Draco too.

All these times, they could only send owls in secrecy. And since Hedwig was locked up, the communication among them was cut off completely. Well, not really. Draco kept bombarding him with one-sided letters and Harry could only read them in forlorn. Yes, Harry thought determinedly, a cell phone would do.

Immediately after the Weasleys picked him up from his aunt's house, he went to Gringotts. After exchanging some of his Galleons with pounds, Harry dragged Hermione to the electronic center in Muggles' shopping town, Mr. Weasley and Ron trotting along excitedly.

Wrapping the new cell phone and posting it to the Malfoys house, Harry whistled merrily to himself. Soon they would be able to communicate freely. He had inserted his contact number into the phone and expected the blonde Slytherin to call him any moment.

Instead, a grumpy owl landed on his window two mornings after, thrusting a leg tied with a letter.

_Why did you give me a calculator? It's not that I take Arithmancy next year._

Harry sweat-dropped. He took his quill and a roll of parchment to write back:

'It's not a calculator, silly. It's a cell phone. What have you done with it?'

_Cell phone? What the hell is that? What I have done… I don't even remember where I put it. It's too small to keep track of._

'You lost it? Great. And it's a Blackberry I got you.'

_Black berry? So it is actually some kind of fruit? Rectangular fruit?_

Draco needed an intensive lesson about Muggles' technology. Seriously.

**END**

A/N: …is it weird? I'm also wondering why Draco knew calculator but not cell phone –grin-

Thank you for reading. Feel free to leave a comment ;)


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